Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon White Flag
by Lady of Misrule
Summary: When one finds out that the very ground their righteous fury stands on is nothing more than a gaping cavern of manipulation at its finest - it's not long before their lives change. Sometimes it becomes hard to breathe; sometimes you can feel your heart.
1. Broken Wings

**White Flag**

_Chapter One_

**- Broken Wings **_**- **_

"I'm surprised your still here?" Arnav said his detached tone desecrating her as nothing had till now.

Was she so unworthy now?

Didn't any of this matter to him...didn't she matter?

Would she ever matter?

Here she at the doorway to his room, and he hadn't even bothered to turn...he just knew. He would always know, just as she would.

Always.

For a second it all stopped. The world stood still and she realized that still ' even now all she wanted was him to know. To care.

_God she loved him_.

"Chote?" asked a hesitant voice from behind her, and Khushi spun around, her hand at her heart. _Anjalii? With him in this mood...Hain Devi Maiyan..._

"Chote'you can't to this to him..."

But Arnav Singh Raizada was not called the decade's most prolific businessman for sluggish reflexes. Quite the contrary. "Out."

One word.

Enough.

And just when she'd thought he couldn't get any more brutal, he'd proved her wrong.

She watched persistently mute as the sister who had meant the world to him, sank down, before him, sobbing, begging him to listen.

"Chote...

...you have to understand'

...he was going to leave...I just...

...I couldn't let him leave.

...he said he just wanted to talk to her."

Then just as Khushi was about to step in and say something in her defense...explain why she'd refused to be in the same room with him 'explain that it wasn't her fault...he turned around. What she saw terrified her. His eyes were colder than the marble flooring under her bare feet.

"Do you realize... he asked, his voice softer than a feather touch_ "..._ '_Di_'...that because of you, because you refused to listen when Khushi said she didn't want to be alone with him, because you plotted she was trapped in a room with a man who tried to..." his voice broke ever so slightly, "...to rape her."

"Chote...you have to listen..Shyamji said she was lyi'"

"Not. Another. Word. Am I clear?" Snapped Arnav fiercely, his entire body trembling in rage.

Sucking in a much needed breath, Khushi watched mesmerized as she saw a side to Arnav she'd never seen before, but for that one time at Naintal.

Silence thundered in the Raizada house, making Anjaliji's pitiful sob's only more heart wrenching, as Arnav stood statuesque as before but for the nerve throbbing on his temple. His voice, was a bare rasp, as he detachedly demanded that his sister leave his sight.

The silence that ensued was deafening.

Minutes like hours passed by...and only when it was devastatingly evident that there was nothing Anjali could say that would have the least impact on the brother that had once worshiped her, that she dragged herself to her feet, flinching away when Khushi attempted naively to help her up.

"This is your fault." She spat, looking venomously into Khushi's still tear stricken eyes, "All of this is.." and then all on a sudden she wasn't looking at her anymore, but instead at a outstretched hand and a half rolled sleeve.

"Don't." he bit out.

"You would believe her over me, Chote? You would choose her?" Anjali screeched, denial raging through her, this was not how it was supposed to happen.

She was his _sister._

He was supposed to pick her!

"Leave. Now."


	2. Torn

_ Chapter Two_

**- Torn _- _**

Silence.

To many a philosopher silence has always been the portrayal of intellect at its best, of wisdom at its crest. To Arnav Singh Raizada it had always been a mere tool. Most often employed when he was waiting for his opponent to err, fatally after which he would present a gracious save- at a price of course.

However silences differed.

And that was a factor he had not registered before, or perhaps as was more likely, for him they had not differed previously. Today however they did.

As he watched his sister limp down the hallway, he could feel his free hand clench involuntarily, his other hand still gripping the doorframe, where he had blocked his wife's already tearing eyes from his sisters cruel diatribe. Slowly almost reluctantly he pulled his arm away, careful not to look in her eyes, he didn't deserve to look in her eyes.

Didn't deserve her.

Hell, he never really had. Swallowing fiercely he forced himself to distance himself from her, he rephrased his question from earlier.

"Why are you still here?"

Six months ago Khushi Kumari Gupta wanted nothing more than to be able to walk away from Arnav Singh Raizada while he stood destroyed amongst the ruins of his preconceptions.

She'd even told him as much, when he'd approached her back then. Told him how much she despised his hypercritical analysis of everyone around him, of his baseless conviction in the faults of others even if only as a contrast to the 'doubtless' faults of his loved ones.

Today, distressed as she was, by the way things had unfolded, traumatized as she was by the assaults that were now vividly imprinted on her subconscious, she still wished she could take back every word she'd said.

Not because she was wrong.

But because she wasn't.

She wanted to take it back because contrary to what most people would presume when Arnav Singh Raizada adopted his fastidious grave mode, it wasn't because he was indifferent. It was because he cared.

And when he cared he cared with a depth of emotion that most people could never fathom. Which was why he was so brutal when it came to the well-being of the people he loved, in a way it was selfishness at its utmost- their pain caused him pain. And pain rendered him helpless. The one thing he detested more than anything else in the world was helplessness; it reminded him of being an redundant child heir to his Father's empire of treachery. It reminded him of not being able to afford even the medicine his sister so desperately needed.

Nobody deserved to feel that level of venerability.

Most definitely not him.

Her back still splayed against the door, she asked, her voice the barest whisper as sliver of hurt laced through it – "You said I could apologize. You said I could cry in your arms. _You promised_."


	3. Coming Home

_Chapter Three_

**- Coming Home _- _**

* * *

><p><em>Her back still splayed against the door, she asked, her voice the barest whisper as sliver of hurt laced through it – "You said I could apologize. You said I could cry in your arms. You promised."<em>

* * *

><p>Jaw clenched in agony, Arnav closed his eyes in as an almost physical pain swept through his body at her words. Hs steely eyes stared unseeingly through the wide glass doors to the still waters of his poolside. The same poolside he had once offered her a deal in.<p>

Little did he know then, that it was a deal, he had no right to offer.

He closed his eyes as the poignant memories of that night filled his mind.

* * *

><p><em>"You asked for me?" she asked in that carefully bland voice she'd cultivated over the past weeks. The one that made him want to grab her and shake her until she stopped acting so bloody ….unemotional.<em>

_He nodded mutely, motioning for her to enter; she did, but carefully and pointedly maneuvered herself such that his prized potted roses stood as a wall between them. For perhaps the first time in his life Arnav found himself resenting his own consuming fondness for horticulture. Even if they provided little to no barrier visually speaking, a fact he took full advantage of as he allowed his eyes to roam leisurely over her._

_God, had he done this? He asked himself a sneaking doubt slipping in the never to be bared crevices of his heart. But just as abruptly the thought had risen, he crushed it._

_No._

_This was her reaction to the truth. _

_He couldn't let what had happened between them change anything. Not when it would hurt so many others. He didn't get to make that choice. Even Arnav Singh Raizada had his boundaries._

_Even he had lines he could not …would not - cross._

_Even so, the absence of her infectious smile, the apathy so clearly evident in her gorgeous eyes, demanded he do something…anything to see her light up the way she used to. To see her play with her atrociously colored dupatta or hide a wayward smile at the sight of her precious jalebi's, anything really…anything that would let him believe that this was her. Because this shadow of a person, was barely alive, let alone alive enough to be Khushi._

_Had she lost even more weight?_

_If she kept this up, she'd be naught but a wisp of air soon enough, not to mention that her apparent 'mood swing' if it could be called that, he didn't really expect her to be caring._

_How had he lost so much weight in a matter of weeks? Was she sick? She was so thin he was convinced, he'd have been able to count her ribs._

_If she ever let him close enough to touch her again, that is._

_There it was again, that blasted need that kept creeping up on him. The need to touch her again, to hold her again, to forgive her even._

_His fingers flexed over the handle of his shears as he kept steadily snipping away at his well pruned roses. Rhythm was key._

_He waited, observing her silently from over the top of his bevy of rose bushes, expecting at least a curt – Well?_

_But apparently, the same entity who had evidently managed to wipe clear any animation she had, had also managed to instill in the ever hyper woman a wealth of patience he would bet his life's work she'd never displayed before. Patience and Khushi Kumari Gupta in the same sentence- that wasn't even worth scoffing at. Yet irony of ironies- here she stood, silently waiting him out, no fidgeting, no impatient tapping of her worn chappals, no emotion whatsoever._

* * *

><p>Some people believed in God.<p>

Some in Love.

Some in Family.

Some believed in Fairytales, and happily ever afters.

Some believed in all of the above.

If ever there was a person who would probably believe in all these and more it would be Khushi.

She'd grown up, always learning - to _laugh_ so that other's could smile, to _believe_ so others would have faith and to _hope_ so that even in the darkest of nights the anticipation of dawn would let her hold on.

She believed that the moon played hide-and-seek with the dense night clouds.

She believed that the stars were incarnations of people you had loved and lost.

She believed that late at night when the darkness would overwhelm you, that if you close your eyes and prayed hard enough the sun would rise just a little faster.

She believed that if you laughed even when you didn't want to that you'd go home the victor.

She believed home was where your heart was.

And if there was one thing she knew - It was that this man broken, angry or irritated, this one person would be her salvation in a world bent on destruction, would be her light when darkness threatened.

He was _her_ home.


	4. When Angel's Cry

_Chapter Four_

**- When Angel's Cry _- _**

_Author's Note: Italics signifies flashbacks!_

* * *

><p><em>"Di tells me Dr. Mehta was in earlier?"<em>

_Khushi raised vacant eyes to his inspection, wondering if this was his idea of inquiring after one's health. Oh wait, no, Arnav Singh Raizada didn't ask, and most definitely not after lowly once-upon a time employee's such as herself._

_She almost responded with a curt, "I'm fine." ' before pride compelled her to maintain her silence. Maybe she was more like him than she'd like to admit after all. Or maybe he had finally managed to rub off on her._

_Either way, she saw no reason to dignify anything this man had to say with an answer._

* * *

><p><em>Arnav Singh Raizada, was a man of few words'and that was indeed how he preferred his conversations in all aspects of his life.<em>

_Short._

_To the point._

_And effective._

_Which is perhaps why it made absolutely no sense for a man who valued silence as much as he did to detest it as much as he did at the moment._

_But detest it he did._

_And had for quite sometime now._

_If he was being honest, he'd detested it for about six days, eight hours and approximately twenty minutes._

_Not that he was counting or anything._

_But truth of the matter was that six days ago, when that fateful phone call had interrupted his everyday frenzy of meetings and paperwork. For a moment his entire world stood still. For a moment it all ceased to exist._

_The only thing that had mattered was her._

_It didn't matter that the only reason he'd married her was to keep her from throwing herself at rich, married men. It didn't matter that she had been about to destroy his sister's blissful marriage with outrageous, baseless accusations. None of it mattered._

_Because in that moment all he could think of was that he might not see her eyes light up over a plate of jalebi's ever again, he might not see her eyes widen with panic over a broken vase, or hear her immensely exasperating lectures on every conceivable topic she could think of._

_And he could not imagine going on without any of it._

_If she was enamored with wealth, so be it, he had more than enough wealth to hold her interest. In fact it was almost curious the way she meticulously took pains to annoy him, when he should have been at the very top of her checklist when it came to men. He was certainly rich enough._

_In any case, that was beside the point. He was already married to the chit so he might as well make the most of it. Besides if he was able to redirect her avaricious intentions towards himself, he'd also be ensuring she stayed a safe distance from his sister's husband, who he was beginning to suspect was more prone to temptation than he had initially believed. It was the only practical solution, he had told himself._

_And that was how the great ASR, the man who never revised even a simple contract found himself standing in the middle of a poolside garden, offering the woman he had once been unable to get far enough from... a renegotiation of their 'deal'._

* * *

><p>"You said I could apologize. You said I could cry in your arms. You <em>promised<em>."

Her words so heartbreakingly desperate, reverberated through his mind as the memories flashed.

His deal.

His offering of peace.

Her unashamed mock-laughter at his audacity to offer her a relationship without respect or trust.

And his magnanimous proposal that _she_ apologize to him, sweetened with a further offer of unconditional forgiveness, no questions asked. He'd said they would move past this, they'd seek counseling, and if she didn't want to do any of that it was still fine she could cry in his arms, and he'd hold her. Just hold her.

His breath caught, heart clenching at the mere thought of holding her. One more thing he'd lost the right to do. Along with watching her laugh, listening to her rant about everything under the sky and every other thing she did that made her so inimitably _her_.

"Arnav?"

Her voice pieced through his haze of recriminations. And for a moment he just soaked it all in, her presence, her shaky, unsure tone.

For one last moment.

"You were right. You have nothing, to apologize for." He intoned, his voice cold and detached.

"You're free to leave." He further stated, "Shyam will be dealt with, and 'the lawyers..my lawyers will be in touch with you as soon as the papers have been drawn up."

She had barely interrupted with a soft, "Par...", that he stopped her with a firm shake of his head.

"You should leave." He repeated, his voice gruff as he continued to stare stoically out his wide glass doors.

* * *

><p>Khushi had dealt with Arnav in many moods. But right now he was terrifying her.<p>

Him angry with her she could deal with, him annoyed with her could manage, but how was she to deal with when he was directing his intense criticism on the most vulnerable of victims.

Himself.

She dragged in a deep breath turning around to at least close the door before she tried talking to him again, the last thing she wanted was someone else to walk in. Even if it was his family. This needed to be about the two of them. Just the two of them.

As she pulled on the door, the slight creak, must have made him think she was leaving as he'd told her to, because suddenly without turning, his voice dropping yet another octave he called her name.

"Ji?"

* * *

><p>Arnav knew he shouldn't have called her back. He knew he should be telling her to get as many miles between the two of them as she could. But 'dammit he needed her to <em>know<em>.

"Kabhi bhi 'agar kuch bhi'I mean'if you need anything'" his voice trailed on, as unable to resist, he turned around for one last time. One last look he promised himself.

One last chance to memorize every beautiful detail.

One last time to create a memory, for every waking moment that would follow.

She was beautiful.

Even with her deep troubled eyes, and the faint bluish bruise across the side of her face, the side he ached to touch, to kiss better, she was oh-so-beautiful.

And then just when he thought he had let his eyes feast as much as they deserved, she smiled.

Not one of the jumpy, hyper energetic smiles she had on all the time. But her slow, uncertain smile, the one that made him desperate with the need to just brush his thumb across to reassure himself it was there.

And she asked in an almost teasing voice as if determined to ignore the gravity of the moment, "Anything?"

He didn't even bother to pretend to hesitate.

"Anything."

Swallowing as she stepped forward, she waited till she was level with him, tipping her head up to look him in the eye. It was then that he saw, the one thing he had been terrified of seeing this whole time. He saw tears. In her eyes. And as they slowly made their way down her porcelain cheeks he found himself unwillingly raising a hand to brush them away.

He closed his eyes in pain, as guilt flooded through him.

He felt her petite form fit itself against him, felt the palm of her hand brush the side of his cheek, but even as he let her pull him down to seal her forehead to his, all he could see was that image of that monster atop of her. All he could hear were her helpless cries for help.

And finally, with his breath falling caressingly over her lips, his gruff strained voice let out the words he so desperately needed to say.

"I'm sorry. I'm _so_ god-damn sorry."


	5. Fragile Fairytale

_ Chapter Five_

**- Fragile Fairytale _- _**

Once upon a time, in a world and reality far, far removed from the one she stood in now- lived a young girl, not much unlike herself.

And like in every other fairytale, she found her knight in shining armor.

However, unlike every other fairytale, her knight in shining armor was more than merely tall dark and handsome. He was also, brooding, unfathomable and more of a dark knight than a uncomplicated savior seated upon the old cliché of a white horse.

But like in every other fairytale, she fell in love.

With her eyes closed shut in actual physical pain of the mere thought of losing this man before her invoked, she drew in a carefully measured breath, allowing herself to for one moment just reassure herself that it was all over.

And he was still here.

With her.

* * *

><p>Arnav Singh Raizada had built too many kingdoms not to believe in fairytales.<p>

He had also however, always believed in being his own author.

Just as he had always believed in fate and God - only as an extension of his own will and actions.

Now however there was nothing he wouldn't give to believe otherwise.

Because when one believed that one was the maker of one's own fate, that meant that the only person to blame for the colossal sins he had now managed to affix to his own conscience – was him.

Even that he would have been able to deal with…if the victim had been anyone but her.

And now, Arnav Singh Raizada, the ruthless magnate.

The man who had single handedly carved his own path in the cut-throat world of business.

Who was said to have about as much emotion as the contracts he signed.

That very same Arnav Singh Raizada stood on this very day in this very moment on the brink of destruction.

* * *

><p>For a moment it all played through her mind's eye.<p>

Again.

And again.

Like a never ending loop.

The outrage when he had first accused her of attempting to entrap a married man.

Her horror when in a display of his ruthlessness he used her weaknesses against her to bind her to him, in a bond he would never see as anything but another contract. One, that in this instance had the added benefit of allowing him to keep an eye on her all the time.

She remembered every moment that taught her a little more about this man she had come to adore. About his smallest fears, his silent sacrifices and the love he took such pains to hide from her.

The love she saw nonetheless.

But then she would not be perfect for him unless she did now would she?

And they were perfect, if only imperfectly so.

In truth for one infinite moment when she had entered his room she had been terrified.

Not because of the hauntingly fresh memories of the nightmare he had saved her from.

But of the determination in his eyes, when he had in his own enigmatic way declared her _free_.

For in that one moment she had truly believed he meant to push her away. And that more than anything else petrified her.

But now, standing here in his arms, her forehead to his, her face palmed in his powerful hands, she realized that she didn't have to be. Because even if this stupid, wonderful, perfectly flawed man she loved did decide to martyr himself and push her away as penance.

He didn't get to make that decision.

And if she had to follow him to the ends of the earth to convince him of that she would.

She would teach him how to forgive himself.

Just as he had taught her to create her own destiny.

And then she would teach him how to love her.

Just as he had taught her how to love him.

* * *

><p>Standing there amongst the carnage of their lives, where even the darkness bled with the tears of humans and angel's alike.<p>

He felt the arms of regret pull implacably.

And even the knowledge of the charred ashes that would be all that remained of his life once he let go of her. He still couldn't bring himself to lament at what all this destruction had given him.

None of it mattered though.

It'd given him her.

Not forever.

Not even close to forever

But it was Khushi.

And for her - he would give up forever.

And that would be enough.

It always had been.

If this was the closest he ever got to her again, and if this came at the cost of knowing her, of knowing how when she laughed her nose scrunched up, and how when she was scared her eyes widened to near impossible proportions. If forever ended here in her embrace, her lips a mere hairs-breadth away from his- it would be enough.

And so he took it all in.

For the first time since he was a naïve adolescent he allowed himself to dream.

For one last moment, he let himself pretend.

And then with the tenderest of butterfly kisses, he brushed his lips across hers and forced himself to let go.


	6. In the Arms of an Angel

_Chapter Six_

**- In the arms of an Angel _- _**

* * *

><p>"Go." He whispered, his voice hoarse with the effort of holding in his need to hold on, to bribe her, to blackmail her, to beg her - to stay.<p>

She looked back at him, eyes wide with uncertainty, yet firm nonetheless, as she shook her head, defying his half-hearted command with the naïve sweetness that was so much a part of her.

It was as if he was being torn apart from the inside.

Never in his entire life had he felt as helpless, as guilty, as unworthy - as he did in this moment.

And yet, no matter how badly he craved to be selfish, and hold her and cherish her forever. He knew, that no matter how hard he tried he would never be able to be as loving, caring, or compassionate as she needed.

As she deserved.

Arnav Singh Raizada, a man born in the lap of luxury, yet forced to fight his way to pinnacle he now reigned - was not bitter by any stretch of one's imagination.

But just as his heart was hardened.

His soul was cold.

The price one paid for success, he had always said.

And until now, it had never really mattered.

Steeling himself, Arnav turned away from her, unable to even consider saying what he was about to say while her soft russet-brown eyes held his.

"You need to go."

"Where?" she asked, her voice echoing in the caverns of his soul.

And after a lost poignant moment - he answered her, with the one line he would have given anything not to have to say.

* * *

><p>Khushi watched for an amused moment as her Arnav turned away from her. He had such an impossibly strange code of ethics this man. He would hold on to her when he didn't love her, and would force her away when he did.<p>

But then again, it was all these contradictions that defined this man.

"You need to go." He said in his harsh unemotional voice, his head tilted back ever so slightly, as if braced for the impact of her angry barrage.

A defiant, "No." stood poised on her lips, and yet instead, she allowed the silence to grow heavy, waiting wondering for one brief second if he was right.

Should she leave?

But even imagining a tomorrow without him tore at her.

This man who she had once detested so thoroughly had become the man she couldn't help but love.

He'd become the man who tore down all her heart's walls only to ensconce himself so deeply in it, that no walls, nothing would ever keep him out. More importantly, he was the one person who ensured that nothing would ever make her want to.

For she'd seen this man, who was capable of a self-control that rivaled his temper, let his eyes linger, just a little bit longer then they should- for her.

She'd felt his lips brush her forehead in the softest caress when believed she was too deeply asleep to notice.

She'd tasted his barely leashed desire when he claimed her in the most intimate way possible.

And now as she'd heard him command her to leave when she knew, it was the last thing he wanted her to do she thanked all her gods, that she had never really liked doing what was expected of her, and instead asked, her voice slightly hurt and slightly adoring as she realized just why he was as stubborn as he was.

* * *

><p>Nothing was as superfluous as emotion.<p>

At least that had been what Arnav Singh Raizada had once claimed.

But in all fairness, the man who had purported such idiotic cache phrases had never really known what true emotion was. He had never known how much it hurt to even _think_ of being apart from Khushi Singh Raizada for the endless stretch of eternity that would follow in her wake. He had never known how hard it was to pretend to be unaffected when he let go of the one person he had discovered, completed him.

Perhaps his ignorance was why, as he waited for this one angel to deliver his sentence, he could almost hear the gods laugh in irony.

But after years of expecting the worst – even through it all, in the deepest caverns of his soul, a secret flicker of hope anchored him.

And somehow, he knew this hope that she had taught him to hold on to, would somehow let this glorious angel find a way to forgive him.

And she did.

For a second Arnav almost thought he was imagining her soft hands sneak under his crossed arms to their preferred place upon his chest. Just above his heart.

But then, he felt her mold herself to him, her face buried just beneath his shoulders as she embraced him from behind. Whispering against the wall of his back, in an achingly tender voice- "Go? When I'm already exactly where I'm supposed to be?"

"Khushi…" he began reluctantly, only to be interrupted by her matter-of-fact litany of –"Did you know, I can't seem to conceive why, but, something tells me, that not only am I exactly where I'm supposed to be, but I'm also exactly where my stubborn, obstinate and impossibly perfect husband wants me to be.

Arnav let out a strangled laugh, finally bit by bit beginning to let go of the guilt that had swept over him in waves since he had dragged that bastard off her this morning. He pulled her around, bringing her face to face with him once again, tenderly smoothing her curtain of silky black hair in order to cradle her beautiful visage in his palms.

"You deserve better than me."

Khushi smiled, tracing the outline of his mouth with her fingers, "You love me." She said simply.

"Khushi..."

She pressed her fingers to his lips, shushing him effectively, before she continued – "Do you have any idea, how long I've spent _praying,_ that I would one day feel a fraction of how cherished you make me feel?"

And just like that his lips captured hers in a desperate, hungry kiss.

His hands, previously cupping her gorgeous face, now slipped under the curtain of her hair to caress the arch of her nape, while she pressed herself closer into his solid frame, and he pulled her closer still as if attempting to absorb her into his very being.

Later, much later, he slowly drew his lips away, tucking her head under his chin as he swept her dramatically into his arms.

Khushi, still dazed from the drowning kiss she'd just been subjected to clutched wildly at his shoulders, bumping her nose decidedly inelegantly on his stubble shadowed chin.

"_Aap kya kar rahehe hain_?" she asked, tucking her face now pink with mortification away in the crook of his neck.

And then for the first time since this nightmare had come to life, he smiled, a slow, boyish, yet extremely seductive smile, that took her breath away all over again.

"I'm cherishing you."

* * *

><p>Long hours later, tucked carefully in the confines of his decadent bed, Arnav Singh Raizada, lay awake, his head propped up on one hand as he watched his beautiful angel mumble incoherently in her sleep.<p>

It had been a long night.

Both of them had realized that some of the trauma inflicted would bear scars on both their minds.

Her instinctively flinch when anyone crept up behind her.

His inherent need - to shackle her to him, and never let her out of his sight.

It would be a long time before he was comfortable with her being anywhere alone again.

For now however, this was enough. Watching her sleep, holding her in the wee hours of the night when a nightmare would reduce her to a trembling mass of disjointed fears. Cradling her in his arms till, the sinister recollections passed. Whispering meaningful nothings to her. Till the only thought that would cross her mind would be of them, the only memory - their passionate reconciliation.

In fact Arnav himself was so lost in these very thoughts that it was a moment before he realized that his star counting, angelic wife was far from in Morpheus's arms, but rather was observing him with the intensity a seasoned predator would apply to an elusive prey.

And just as he was about to ask her, exactly what was running through her irrational mind, she asked him a question he'd never really expected from her, much less in the heartbroken tone she voiced it in, as if the mere thought of it made her want to break down in gut wrenching tears.

"Would you have really let me go?"

He watched the play of emotions across her face. Disappointment vying with surprise, topped by a touch of anger.

"Yes." He answered honestly. His lean fingers trailing along the length of her arm, as he looked away from the hurt hovering in her oh-so-expressive eyes. "But…" he added gently, "I knew I wouldn't have to."

Khushi snuggled closer to him tugging away the covers that prevented direct contact, and brought her hands up so they were crossed over his scrumptiously wide chest.

"Because Arnav Singh Raizada always gets what he wants?" she guessed, with amused tolerance for her husband's life-size sense of self. Only to be surprised when he shook his head, sadly almost as if in actual pain. So, she guessed again, a little more serious this time-

"Because you knew we were strong enough to overcome this?"

Surprisingly enough once again he shook his head and murmured a soft, "No." And as if to distract her tumbled her over, so that he had her pinned among the lavish pillows and Egyptian cotton sheets, and proceeded to plant a line of soft kisses all along her throat.

But distracted as she was curiosity had always been Khushi's Achilles heel, something Arnav knew only too well. Which was probably why he was more amused than surprised, when she persisted with a sweetly inquisitive- "How did you know, darling?"

He looked deeply into her sleepy hazel eyes, carefully tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, before he answered. When he did, those very same soft hazel eyes filled with watery tears that only complimented the gruff bruising in his own voice when he answered with a haunted smile -

"Because I wanted so badly for you to stay. And you've _never_- not given me what I wanted."

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><p>Read and Review please!<p> 


	7. Epilogue

**_Epilogue_**

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><p><strong><span>AN**_: My epilogue! I bet you didn't expect an update this soon'lol hell I didn't expect one this soon. Blame the sugar rush due to all the excess of cake. Anyway here we go just a tidbit I thought you may enjoy knowing - Aarush means- The first ray of the sun_

_As always thank you all for the wonderful comments and likes on all my other FF's. PM's will be sent to those who buddy me, I'm sorry but I don't know any other way, and comments are what keep this fic going so do take a minute to comment if you like it._

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><p>'No' was not a word Khushi Kumari Gupta was very used to hearing.<p>

Granted as Mrs. Arnav Singh Raizada, the word was used less frequently; well at least by most people around her. Her _Mr. always-suited- with an angrily arched_ eyebrow husband on the other hand was a different issue.

But he was very, very hot.

So he usually ended up with a free pass.

Her equally endearing mini-Arnav on the other-hand was developing an annoying resemblance to his sire. _Not _an admirable trait in a semi-rebellious, semi-abnormally-mature fifteen year old.

"_Mooom!"_

"Kya? Aur kitni baar kahu Amma nahi toh Ma...Hain Devi Maiyan how many times do I have to tell you not to call me '_mom'_, Mamiji ka bhut sawar hain kya?" Khushi asked annoyed as she dragged her son down onto a kitchen seat, attempting in vain to flatten his gravity defying locks of hair.

"Maa stop na!" he cried, trying in vain to sophisticatedly maneuver his way out from under his mother's persistent attempts to destroy his perfectly gelled hair.

"Kyun stop karu? I can't stop looking at it can I? Tumhe pata bhi hain dekhke kya lagta hain? It looks like someone hooked you up to a live electricity socket. Aur log kyan kahenge, mandir mein koi ase jata hain bhala? Iss ko toh..."

And there she goes. Again.

Arush Singh Raizada was nothing if not observant. He was after all the son of legends. One in business the other in ...well...in keeping the legend wary of his clay feet. He also had n off the charts IQ and quite a track record for having a knack for knowing exactly what to say, and when to say it- hence the bevy of girlfriends.

None of his many accolades however where going to help him escape the psycho-mummy mode his mother was in at the moment. Even knowing how his mum got at _Teej,_ didn't make her psychoticness any more tolerable.

_Where was his dad when he needed him?_

Suddenly as if conjured by the sheer power of his will, he heard the steady tread of feet before they even rounded the kitchen corner. Oh he so owed Devi Maiyan one for this, he thought for one brief second as he peeked over his mother's shoulder in order to shoot silent plea at his dad.

"What's going on?" asked his dad carefully, his tone taking on the rare -neutral tone he used when his mum was in one of her _jalebi-moods._

"Dekhiye na, Arush ne baalon ko kya banake rakhkhe hain, dekhkhe to porcupine lag rahehe, mandir mein sab kya kahenge? Aur '" She finally gave up attempting to press her son's arrogantly skyward pointing locks of hair closer to his scalp, turning instead to her husband of almost seventeen years for support.

Porcupine or not Arush Singh Raizada knew an escape when he saw one, and never let it be said that the heir to the Raizada dynasty didn't know how to tap an opportunity. Even if it was at the cost of his father's mental sanity. Besides, ten minutes in there'd be too much PDA for him to be in the kitchen anyway, it was more of a strategic retreat than anything.

Arnav bit back a smile.

God but she was lovely.

Stark-raving-mad.

But oh-so-lovely.

He stood silently, letting his beautiful wife rant irrationally at his shirt front, while he smoothed a stray lock of hair from off her cheek as he watched his son back out of the chair and finger his hair back into the ridiculous standing up on you head style that teenagers these days seemed so fixated on.

"Aap sun bhi rahe ho?"She blasted, annoyed with his perfect poker face.

This time he did smile, bending his head down so his forehead was sealed to hers, locking his hands with hers before tucking them carefully behind her back so that she was brought flush against his hard chest.

"I'm always listening." He whispered quixotically.

To which his wonderfully original wife rolled her eyes with exaggerated effort, and looked away, as if even responding to his dramatic dialogue was a waste of energy on her part.

But then again, she was Khushi. And unless she starting mumbling incoherently under her breath, Arnav would be forced to start wondering just who he was cradling in his arms.

Laughing silently on the inside, while sending up a prayer to a God he didn't believe in Arnav placed a sweet peck on her nose, enjoying her continuous prattle on everything from their son's strange hairstyles to the ten rupee increase in each kilogram of sugar which she claimed was a conspiracy to get her to stop making _jalebi's_.

Still rocking her gently in his arms he thought back over the years since he'd first met his beautiful virago.

He thought of the passionate arguments.

The naive ideologies.

And the way her body fit his just right, the unbearably sweet way her lips molded his and the perfect way her soul filled the gaps in his.

As a child Arnav had learned early on that life was what you made it.

As a man he had learned that the only true path to happiness was to create your own fate and decree it.

Never had he imagined it was possible to love and be loved -

so purely

so passionately

and

so perfectly.

And as it usually was when it pertained to her, he was wrong.

But _never _more happily so.

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><p><em>N.B. - Check out ( * -forums* forum_ *?TID=2475733&amp;PID=50697563&amp;*#50697563) for all my other work and an index for the stories.<em>

_Just remove the '*' signs_

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